One Year

Today is a pretty big day. One year ago on this day I left home. I left behind everything I knew and everything familiar. I traveled to the other side of the planet. Today marks a year of living abroad.

It is also my birthday. There is a profoundness to leaving on my birthday. It truly marked a turning point in my life and a new beginning. I wanted to be away from the old, to leave the old me behind and grow anew.

I am different now in ways that make me barely recognizable. I am not in the best shape of my life, but I have lost 10 kg. Also, I now use the metric system and Celsius.  I can speak a little Mandarin. I have taught myself how to play a bit of the recorder among other skills.

Most importantly, I have traveled. I have seen. I have experienced. I have taken the big step out of my own backyard. I have been to four new countries and met people from around the world. My mind and soul have absorbed other cultures and perspectives while my body has transition between boarders.

Still, I want more. I need to feed this growing desire. With each step I hunger to see what is around the next corner, to be fed new knowledge. I have always had need, but now I have glimpsed the buffet and cannot be suited without sampling everything.

So how do I celebrate today? A few ways actually. The first, and most obvious is to go out and have an adventure. I choose to visit the Lin Family Mansion and Garden. I had wanted to for a while but had not had a chance yet.

The MRT deposited me a short walk from my target. It is a pretty part of town with some very nice statues. As I passed through an open air market I stopped to buy myself a little present for myself. I got Legos (or a Chinese knockoff). Don't judge me.

I visited two temples. One was fairly standard, but the other had an open air courtyard. More enchanting was a small park next to the second, or more precisely an extension of it. It had statues of various figures that I think we're different Buddhas. They were arranged around a path shaped like a buddhist symbol. I sat for a bit to reflect and look inward. Today seems a good day for that.

Tranquil park.

Finally I arrived at the Lin Family Mansion and Garden.  It proved to be well worth the trip. It turned out to be one of the most gorgeous and interesting structures in Taipei. It was constructed in 1778. The family spent more on it than was spent on the construction of Taipei at the time. Over time it fell into disrepair. However, the city eventually designated it as a historical park and renovations were undertaken to save the beautiful construction.

Wolf mountain?

It definitely showed it's age. The surfaces were weather worn and the recent typhoon had left a mess. Despite that, it was still a breathtaking sight. The open design allowed for a variety of trees to grow inside. Some of them had even grown to be part of the walls. It seemed like every surface had been designed as a piece of art. As I moved from section to section it was like moving from one garden to another. Little relaxing islands connected by stone hallways. It has several ponds that made for relaxing spots to sit and enjoy the breeze. My mind was transported back to a time before air conditioning and I imagined how nice it would be to live in a place like it during the summer.

Several features struck my fancy above the rest. The first was an elevated sitting area in one of the yards. It was like a mountain rising from the grassland below so that whoever sat there could look down like some deity on those below. Stone steps wound around to the top. Stone seats and a table were carved out so that three could sit and have tea.

Next was a wall that divided two portions of the compound. It had a section that was like a mountain and a tree grew from it. I could see that the wall was also a bridge of sorts. There was a path on top, sadly inaccessible to the public, that would have let someone stroll to another sitting area.

Finally, there was an area that I suspect was made from quarried coral. The bare stone of the walls stood out against the worked walls the connected to it. That was all part of its beauty of course. It gives the impression that you are still touching nature. Walking inside the hallway that it created felt like traveling through a tunnel.

A final worthwhile note is that of the other visitors. I was making an effort to be friendly. A lot of women from South Korea where visiting. I met a family from Australia. The real topper, though, was a group of cosplayers. There were seven girls dressed as characters from Love Live! and were nice enough to let me snap a few pictures. They really were some good cosplayers and I think they made a great location choice for a photoshoot.

Love Live!

After all of that I headed home and got ready for dinner. I had dinner with friends on Sunday, but I also wanted to have a dinner on my actual birthday. I was meeting my friend Grace to go to Texas Roadhouse for a taste of home. Despite our recent choice to just be friends, we are still very close. I was glad to spend the evening with her because one way or another she has been one of the best parts of this past year. She helped and pushed me to try and do so much. So we stuffed our self on good food and talked and had fun.

Picture of the polaroid she took and put in my card.
That one left a mark on her face, we thought it looked cool.

So that is one year past. Things tired, lessons learned. It is time to set new goals and try new things. I will have to see what the next year holds.

Surviving Manila

It really says something about a place when people from there tell you not to go. They left the place, why would you want to go there? I needed a cheap place to do my first visa run too, though, and Mannila was as cheap as it gets. It was someplace I had never been. Even as bad as everyone made it out to be, I thought with only two days I could get something out of the trip.

Things did not start out auspiciously. I ended up having to take a cab to get to the airport instead of the bus because, well, I could not find the bus station. Turns out there are several bus stations in Taipei and the one I knew about was not the right one. I need not have worried about being late though. My flight was delayed several hours.

Look who's ready for adventure.

I was unwinding on the flight when things took an unfortunate turn. There was a team of soccer players on their way to the Philippines as well. They had all been drinking while waiting on our late flight. One man had gotten drunk enough that he passed out on his way to the toilet. They asked if anyone had medical training and I was the only volunteer. When I got up front he was on the floor, bleeding from the head. I got him bandaged up as he came around. He and the flight attendants ignored my advice about him staying put. He insisted on using the bathroom still and they did not want him on the floor for our imminent landing. So I washed my hands of the issue and took my new seat up front.

Once we hit the ground it did not take me long to gather my belongings and get through customs. I stepped out the airport doors into the the thick air and started to search for a taxi. They were all lined up with the intent of getting my business anyway they could. A tout came up with the claim that he represented the official airport taxis and claimed that other taxis were not to be trusted. When I asked about rates, he gave me an outrageous price. I had done my research and knew that it should only be 300 pesos, not 2000. After no luck with the others nearby I was starting to wonder what to do.

Pro Tip: Cabs in the Philippines, especially at the airport will rip you off if you do not know the real cost. Be firm on what you are willing to pay.

Then I saw Jay, the man that had been sitting next to me on the plane after I helped the injured drunk. He was a local and told me that all of the cabs waiting around would be a rip off and that it was better to just walk over to the hotel and get a cab. So I followed him. He even flagged a cab down for me. Sometimes you run into good people.

The cabbie was friendly and spoke fluent english. So far as I can tell he did not try to rip me off. The drive gave me a chance to get a feel for the city. It was dirty, but bright with neon lights. We passed by a half dozen strip clubs in addition to the bars and clubs. My hostel was a bit tough to find. They need a bit better sign placement.

Where2Next was a literal breath of fresh air. The air conditioning was a godsend after being out in air so thick you could swim through it as easily as walk. Clean and modern it was like being in a completely different place from being outside.

Common room of the hostel.

Outside the hostel was a neighborhood set up to cater to and prey upon tourists. Neon signs flashed to advertise bars, clubs, massage parlors, and hostess clubs. Most of course were peddling flesh more than drinks. There were stores to buy cheap, yet still somehow overpriced items such as bottled water. People roamed the street begging for money.

Once I was checked in I tried to use the internet. I have not experienced something so slow and unreliable since I was a kid using dial up. Fast internet is something you become accustomed too the point that it throws you off when you lose it. I finally managed a few messages to let people know I was OK so that I could go to bed.

In such a sweltering place I never would have thought I would be unhappy with air conditioning. The air was actually turned up so high that I was freezing half the night with nothing warmer than a sheet for cover. I have not left my sleeping bag at home since. I woke in the morning feeling utterly exhausted. I did not want to sleep in (as though I could in that cold), I wanted an adventure. So I got a quick shower and headed down for breakfast in the lounge.

What I had read online said that the money exchange at the airport was a total rip off so I had only changed a little. I hit the street to find a changer with a decent rate. Seeing the area in the daylight was shocking. It was even dirtier while deserted of the people going about their night business. There were about seven money changers down the block, half of which might as well have just robbed me. I found one that was close to what the airport had been and was content that that was as good as it gets. Walking down that street I had men trying to sell me everything from jewelry to an iPhone 6. With my money taken care of I decided to start my big adventure. Well an adventure. I was to tired for much. Walking down the street in Manila is its own adventure though.

Pro Tip: Theft proof yourself as best you can. I had money in different pockets. My ID and debit card were in a hidden pocket of my belt pouch that was double strapped to my body. I had a copy of my passport while the actual one was locked up at the hostel.

I walked a couple blocks to where the Jeep near rout was. I walked along squalid streets past closed down bars. Children came up to me begging so I handed out a few pesos in front of a historic church as a wedding was being rehearsed. The oddest encounter was a man coming up and offering to let me shoot guns for $50. "I have uzi, AK 47,  and 9mm." I guess that is what they expect Americans to do after whoring around the night before.

The jeepneys were one of the most interesting parts of my trip. Old US military jeeps were converted into cheap public transportation. Each jeepney is customized with its own delightfully garish color scheme. They seem lively and add color that was otherwise lacking to the city. I hailed one over with more than a bit of excitement. The bench seat was rough, but the open air felt good in the heat. In a surprising honor system you pay by passing your money to the person next to you until it reaches the driver.

Jeepneys are a heck of a way to travel.

The bumpy ride made me smile. The locals probably thought I was crazy for being that happy to get shaken around. A memorable moment was when we were stuck in traffic. A girl who looked about ten or twelve years old climbed onto the back bumper/step and started to sing a song as she passed around an envelope. It was a sad melody. I put a few pesos in.

Mall of Asia

So did I go to a historic site? A natural landmark? A museum? No, I got off the jeepney at the Mall of Asia, one of the largest malls in Asia. Hey, I said I was tired and had a headache. The first point of business was food. I found a Pizza Hut of all places. It was decked out more like a four star restaurant. I actually ended up getting some pretty good pasta there. It is funny how the places we think of as common and cheap at home are a big deal in other countries.

Getting into the mall was it's own special experience. I had to go through a security checkpoint like at an airport. They even checked my adventure bag before letting me through. Most of the stores ended up being a bit to high end for me. So much for finding some cheap deals. The mall was meant for the rich.

I thought a walk along the waterfront would be a better option. Not so much. It was utterly filthy and reeked. The rocks were covered in garbage and you could see that people climbed down to use the water there to wash and perform other bodily functions. The water was polluted and oily from the ship that crowded the bay. The food stands and fair rides for those with money seemed so out of place. Opulence pressed against poverty.

Looking over the bay, trying to ignore all of the ships on the horizon. 

It is hard to truly comprehend the kind of poverty of a place like Manila without experiencing it first hand. You can be told about it and see pictures, but it seems so distant until it is right in your face. I had always known about it, but this was the first time I was truly exposed to it. I was forced to confront something troubling, the kind of thing we push to the back of our mind so that we can go about our lives and worry about our own problems.

It is hard to turn down someone’s begging when they are filthy and hungry. You can look around you and see that they are coming to you because there is no other option, no real hope. At the same time, you only have so much money and time. I found myself giving pocket change to begging children and tipping people more than I would have in the US.

However, as you go on it wears you down. Especially when you start to see how organized it is. There is a tout on every corner ready to push you into a taxi. Every taxi driver is trying to take you to whoever gives him a cut. And that guy sends you out with guides who try to get a tip at every turn. Waiting there is someone who is trying to sell you something, pushing it on you to get whatever they can. Even though they need that money bad, it is hard to not feel like you are prey that is being cornered. They are not predators, though, just desperate people.

I had brought enough money to eat on, to pay my expenses. I was not some rich traveler, even if I was better off than everyone around me. After a while I realized that there was no choice if I wanted to be able to eat my own dinner. So, I hardened my heart to the suffering around me. I looked the other way and kept going where I was headed when people tried to stop me.

After boredom set in, and I had a nice Thai salad, I started back for the hostel. That was easier said than done. There were a lot of jeepneys outside to choose from and I was wary of the touts. I finally found one that was going to where I needed. The open air breeze from the jeepney felt good in the evening humidity. I got off when I reached the intersection I needed, but was not sure where to meet the next jeepney.

Pro Tip: Get someone at your hostel/hotel to write down directions in the local language. That way you can just show people where you are trying to get too. It may help, if they know where the place is.

This was easily the most nerve wracking part of my trip. It was dark and I was not sure of where to go. The street was crowded where I was (a night market of sorts), but that did not make it safe. As a foreigner there was no way for me not to stand out. The police were no help, and not to be trusted. I followed the directions I was given as best I could understand them. I was in a state of heightened awareness that I rarely reach. I pointedly tried to keep my belt pouch hidden while looking as big, tough, and confident as I could manage.

Help finally came in the form of another American, who was having a worse time of things than me. He had been robbed before meeting me. A thief tore out his pants pocket to get his wallet. That left him with no money to get to the other side of the city where he was house sitting. After he showed me the corner to wait on (and warned me that it was a dangerous spot) I gave him some pesos to help him and his stray kitten on his way.

I was the first one on the jeepney and ready to get out of Dodge. Unfortunately, I think I got off a stop early, or maybe they just use a different return route. I was back to hoofing it a few blocks. The nightlife was in full swing. Bright lights and women in dresses were set to draw the eye, and the rest of you, in. The touts were aggressive. Every place I walked by there was someone trying to beg and bully me to come in. Actually, I felt kind of bad turning the prostitutes down. They were very polite.

I did make it back to Where2Next. It was a relief to be out of the heat. I spent a bit of time trying to plan for the next day. I had little luck using the internet. I was able to meet a few of the other guests for a bit. As it turned out, I was the only one to not get ripped off by an airport taxi. I made a loose plan for the next day to visit the Taal Volcano.

I woke up ready to go after another cold night. As soon as breakfast was in my stomach I headed for the bus station. The first stop is easy, but finding the next pickup is always the hard part. After a bit I finally gave up and hailed a taxi. It turned out I could have walked the rest of the way if I had known where to go. I got some water and a snack then hopped on my bus. It was a fairly decent transport, like a bus you might get in other cities. It felt a bit out of place. I was headed out of the city so I hoped I would see some of the countryside, but really only saw urban sprawl until near the end.

I was pretty worried that I had gotten off at the wrong spot and was going to be stuck in the middle of nowhere at first. I had the impression that there would be people waiting around to take tourists to the volcano lake when I got off. Where I was did not even constitute a bus stop hardly. There was not even a road sign.

Fortunately, with some searching I found a tout who called over a trike. For fast transportation in the Philippines a trike is hard to beat, provided safety is not a big concern. They weld a makeshift sidecar to a motorcycle, usually with a roof. No seat belts are provided so it's best to have a strong grip.

Down the mountain.

Cow

The fast paced ride down the winding mountain road was exhilarating. I never knew what would be waiting around the next turn. The driver had to dodge us around some rocks that had fallen onto our side of the road while I prayed that we did not meet oncoming traffic. The view that sped by was worth the danger though. I could finally see some of the tropical scenery while careening around the curves. I could even make out the lake that was my destination. The only wildlife I was able to spot, though, were some cows that looked as starved as the people.

My volcanic destination.

The driver finally came to a stop at a boatshop. That is how things are arranged in the Philippines. Everyone sends you to the person he has a deal with. I negotiated my trip arrangements with the manager. He wanted more than I was expecting from my research. I told him, truthfully, that I could not afford the bus back at that price. Seeing he was about to lose me, he knocked the price down as a "special" deal.

Pro Tip: Don’t be afraid to haggle. No the local rules on it so you do not appear rude though.

I was led down to an outrigger for the trip to the volcanic island. I turned down the offer of a poncho. I was hot enough that getting splashed sounded good. It was the first time that day that I had to really relax. As the boat splashed through the waves I did not have to worry about getting off at the right spot or holding on for dear life. I just watched as the volcano moved closer.

When we reached the island I nimbly crossed the boats and planks to the shore. I was determined to not look like one of the rich gawkers that complain about the lack of air conditioning.  A boy showed me to where the mules were waiting. I had chosen to ride up because I was told it would be faster. Honestly, I would have been ahead to go up on foot.

I was paired with a bare foot guide who kept up with my mount. The red trail was dusty and a cloud was kicked up by the people in front of me. It was a good thing that I had grabbed a face mask. The rusty dust choked the air and stung the eyes. I had to focus most of my attention on not slipping off of my cantankerous mount. Eventually I asked my guide to hold my water bottle so I could use both hands. Needless to say I felt quite dumb at that point. I almost got off of the mule to walk up.

Smoke issues from the ground. The sun came back out on the trip up.

When not hanging on for dear life, well to avoid a bruised backside at any rate, I was able to glimpse the surrounding terrain. Past red rocks I could see the tropical foliage. Beyond that the blue lake stretched back to the shore. I was reminded that this was more than an island by whips of white gas venting from the earth. The volcanic puffs wafted in the air as I was shook up the trail towards the waiting caldera.

Standing on a volcano.

My guide led me up to the edge on foot where I could finally see what had drawn me all this way. It was quite the view. Inside the volcano was another lake. Far below us its bluegreen water stretched out. It is a funny feeling to be looking down at a lake inside of a lake. I could see past the edge to the greater lake beyond. Looking closely I could see steam vents by the shore as another reminder that this was a very active volcano.

My mascot.

There were people waiting up there of course, trying to get what they could out of the tourists. Even before I had dismounted a young girl asked if I wanted to buy my guide a drink. So I fished out some change and bought him a coke. Interestingly there were people with golf clubs that would sell you a ball to drive as far out over the lake as you could. That struck me as less than eco-friendly, and I was about broke anyway. A man had also taken my picture on the ride up and pushed me to buy the polaroid. I relented and now have a picture of me looking like a jackass on top of a jackass.

As pretty as it was, it is the kind of thing you look at for a few minutes then leave. The journey was longer than the viewing much as cooking is longer than the meal. If I had more time I might have tried hiking down to the lake, but I wanted off of the island before dark. The ride back down was no less jolting, but at least I didn't feel like I would slip off. The boat ride back let me relax again, though the water felt colder as the sun dropped lower. The ride back up the mountain was more good fun. I was a bit more prepared for clicking some photos.

This is where the return becomes...complex. Public restrooms are not so available in Manila. While I am not above going on a tree, the bus stop was in town. Speaking of which, the stop was again not marked so I had to ask a tout outside of a hotel who was nice enough to point the way. So on the long bus ride back I was forced to hold my bladder while watching bad scifi movies. The kind of stuff that is two steps bellow Sharknado bad. The worst part is I didn't even get to see the end of the second movie! When I got off of the bus I tried to find a bathroom, even asking a shop if I could use theirs. When that failed, I did what the locals do, I found the side of a building. Unfortunately as I was recreating the Mississippi River in the gutter a security guard interrupted me. So I had to zip up and skedattle. The last thing I needed was to spend the last of my money bribing the police.

So, after the troubles of the night before, I did the sensible thing and just hired a taxi. Back at the hostel I spent some time chatting with the other guests. I hoped I might find someone to hang out with the next day, but no such luck. So instead I played jenga with the hostel staff until I was ready for bed.

The final day, I wake up and pack my gear. I am tired, have a headache, and generally ready to go home to Taiwan. Unfortunately my flight was not till the afternoon so I had a lot of time to kill. No other guests wanted to do anything with me and I did not have a lot of options. So, I napped. Yes, I layed down on a beanbag and napped.

Do not worry, that is not all. Even feeling lousy, I don’t like to waste time. The only real option was walking to a historic district that was nearby. I walked back to where I had gotten on the jeepneas before. I walked around the square and enjoyed the view of a statue depicting a hero from the Philippines history. He looked pretty cool holding up this sword and shield.

I walked down to the bay walk. I was suppose to follow it to the historic district. The bay was nothing much to look at. As I continued down the path I had to walk around homeless people. I felt as though I was invading their home just by walking down the path. I walked until I even came to the American embassy. I did not reach the historic district though. Maybe I should have walked farther, maybe my directions were bad. I turned back and walked some the other way, trying to enjoy the weather. Perhaps the most striking thing of the walk was seeing someone living up in a tree. Those without learn to make do.

I went back to the hostel and got my backpack. A cab took me to the airport. The airport sucks. Case in point, the terminals are not connected. I ended up at the wrong terminal. That meant I had to hire another cab to get to the right one. I was ready to be done with things at that point. My trials were not done when I got stopped by security. They said there was a knife in my backpack. They were corrected. Fortunately, with a bit of fast hands and changing pockets I convinced them they were wrong, or at least that it was not worth holding up the line to keep searching. Things were pretty uneventful the rest of the way home.

Pro Tip: Make sure to keep a bit of your home currency ready to buy things like a bus ticket, dinner, and minutes for your phone when you land. Keep your keys someplace easy to get to.

It might sound like something of a dreadful trip. I certainly warn everyone about going there. It was undeniably memorable though. It was eye opening in the way it forced me to see things I never would have before. The danger went well beyond anything I was use to. My comfort zone was destroyed. I proved things to myself though. I proved I could survive doing something like that. I had the cunning, awareness, and attitude to come out on top from a trip where others were less fortunate. I avoided being robbed, taken advantage of, and bullied. That was something to learn from and grow.

Look at that tired schmuck.